Be Mine
by Karenza
Summary: John returns from his date to find Sherlock having cried himself to sleep. What has the consulting detective so down? Can John help him get back to his usual self?


**Hey new story to make up for my writers block on my chaptered ones. I wrote this ages ago and found it recently. Hope you enjoy it. Anyway, on with the story**

John exited the taxi and walked up to his and Sherlock's flat. As he unlocked the door he thought about the date he had just been on. The woman he was with was relatively nice, an accountant he had met at a bar. It was his second date with her and he thought it went quite well. He had taken her to a nice Chinese restaurant, the food had been delicious and the conversation casual.

He walked into the flat to find his best friend curled up fast asleep in his chair. When he took a closer look he noticed that Sherlock's eyes were red and puffy and his cheeks stained with tears, obvious signs that the raven-haired man had cried himself to sleep. John had found him like this a lot recently and was concerned about his sociopathic friend. What could be making Sherlock so upset?

"Sherlock" John called softly, gaining no response from the younger man. He stepped closer. "Sherlock" he called again louder this time. This time the consulting detective stirred.

"John?" he mumbled turning to face the army-doctor.

"Hey, are you okay?" John asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine" Sherlock muttered, his voice thick from sleep and crying. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm not blind or stupid, Sherlock." The taller male scoffed "Despite what _you_ may think."

"What do you mean?" the consulting detective inquired.

"It means that I see the _tear tracks_ and the _red eyes_. I see that you are sleeping more than usual but _still_ seem tired. I see that you are hurting. I see that you are _trying_ to hide all of this from me by keeping your distance rather than disregarding my personal space. And I _know_ that you have been waiting until I leave the flat to break down instead of talking to me" John said, staring the detective in the eyes that refused to meet his, letting concern seep into his voice.

The sociopath just stood and delicately grabbed his violin before he started playing a solemn melody. John noticed this to be a common action that the raven haired bloke would take whenever he was trying to avoid something. This one action confirmed everything that the blogger had said to be true. The World's only Consulting Detective has _emotions_; and they're causing him pain.

"Sherlock, you know you can talk to me about anything." the pale man remained silent. "Sherlock, put the violin down and talk to me" still nothing "Sherlock put the bloody violin down before I smash it to pieces!" John threatened. Sherlock stopped playing and turned to look at the older male.

"You _wouldn't_."

"Oh yes I bloody well would."

"Fine then" Sherlock placed his violin back into it's case before waltzing over to the sofa and flopping onto it in a sulking fashion. "What do you want to talk about? The weather? Politics?"

"I want to talk about _you,_ Sherlock."

"What about me? I am a six foot one sociopath with black, curly hair and pale skin. I have sectoral Heterochomia Iridum making the colour of my eyes indeciphera..."

"Shut up, Sherlock. I don't mean physical things I mean how you _feel_ and what is _making_ you feel like that."

"Are you psychiatrist now, John?"

"No. I am a concerned friend."

"Yeah, Friend" the raven-haired bloke muttered.

"What?" John asked not having heard what the detective had said.

"I said it's _nothing_, so why can't you leave it alone"

"Sherlock, why can't you just tell me?"

"Because."

"Because _why_?"

"Just _because_."

"Stop being a child and just tell me" Sherlock mumbled something. "Sorry, what was that? I didn't hear you."

"Because I don't understand."

"Understand _what_ exactly?"

"How I feel? I don't understand it."

"Why don't you try explain it to me. I am, after all, the expert on emotions out of the two of us."

"Okay. I don't see why not, it couldn't hurt."

"Okay, start explaining then."

"Well, sometimes I feel angry, no, not just angry I feel unadulterated rage. Other times I feel all joyful, like I have just been given the most interesting case, my head gets all fuzzy and I can't focus my thoughts. But a lot of the time it just _hurts_."

"What hurts?"

"My chest or I supposed most people would say their heart. But, I feel like a cannonball has ripped through my chest and left a gaping hole. My eyes feel itchy and I struggle to keep them open. My body feels heavy and I can't focus on anything. It is so infuriating and tedious. And the worst part is that I can't control any of it. What's wrong with me, John?" Sherlock finished finally looking into his doctor's eyes, wearing a frightened expressions on his face which John had rarely seen.

"Well, Sherlock, is this happening all the time of mostly around just one person?"

"I think it may just be one person but I'm around them most of the time, so I can't be entirely sure."

"Sherlock, I think you're in love."

"What? That's ridiculous."

"No, it's not. That is exactly how my mother described how she felt about my dad before they got together."

"But, who would I be in love with?"

"I don't know. Think about who is there when you have these feelings. Who can you not stop thinking about when you can't control your thoughts?" Sherlock closed his eyes and entered his mind palace.

A moment later his eyes pinged wide open and stayed that way to compliment the shocked expression that also graced the rest of his face.

"You!" Sherlock suddenly exclaimed in a breathy voice.

"Pardon?" John inquired confused to as what he was being accused of.

"You! It's you, John. I'm in love with you."

"Oh."

"_Oh_? I declare my love for you and all you have to say is '_oh_'?"

"Sorry, it's just a bit of a shock, that's all. I'm going to make a cuppa, do you want one?"

"Yes, please John."

"Okay" John got up, walked into the kitchen and started making tea, all the while thinking about Sherlock's confession. John started questioning how he felt about the younger male. Was their relationship purely platonic or was their something more now? The ex-army medic had never thought about the consulting detective in that was before and if he had it wasn't consciously. But now he could picture their whole future together: snuggling up watching a movie whilst Sherlock criticised every moment of the film, dates that would no doubtingly be interrupted by an exiting case but that would be fine because both of the dates participant would be going. He could actually see them working. Sherlock couldn't ruin this relationship with his cases or deductions because there was no new person to deduce and to make cry, the only people in this relationship were either used to it or are the one doing it and both John and Sherlock lived for their cases.

'_Shit_' John suddenly thought '_I'm in love with Sherlock Holmes_' John finished making the tea and brought it in to where the self-proclaimed sociopath was sat on the sofa. Sherlock stood.

"John, I see that I have made this living arrangement uncomfortable for you so I will be moving out."

"No, you wont."

"It's the only logical way. You would never be able to afford another flat and I am able to so I will be the one to move."

"No, you _wont_."

"But, John-" Sherlock was cut off by the aforementioned man's lips crashing into his in a quick but passionate kiss. When John finally pulled back Sherlock had a dazed expression on his face which made him look slightly high.

"_Sherlo-_" this time it was John who was interrupted by Sherlock kissing him. The kiss continued until the need for oxygen over threw their need for each other. They pulled apart but rested their foreheads together and intertwined their hands.

"I love you, Sherlock Holmes."

"I love you too, John Watson" Sherlock paused "You do realise that you just cheated on the teacher."

"_Shit_, and it was the accountant" Just then the blogger's phone beeped signalling a text message. He pulled his phone from his pocket not letting go of his new lover's hands and checked the message. It read:

_Sorry John. I just don't see us working out - Kelly_

Sherlock snatched the phone out of John's hand and held the phone out of his way before texting the woman back. After he had sent the text he handed it back to John who looked to see what he man-child had put. The text read:

_It's okay. I didn't see us working out either seeing as I'm gay - JW_

"_Sherlock_!" John shouted, half annoyed, half amused. "You _can't_ put that."

"I _can_ and I _did_."

"You are such a child sometimes."

"I am _not_" he replied pouting slightly until John kissed it away.

"I have a question for you, Sherlock."

"What is it?"

"Be mine?"

"Of course. As if I would _ever_ say no."

**Damn I use too much italics anyway I hope you enjoyed it. Please review as each one makes me happy. If I get enough positive reviews I may post another chapter - K xx**


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